


twist

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Non-Consensual, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-17
Updated: 2004-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathon gives Lex some weird looks sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twist

**Author's Note:**

> Jonathon gives Lex some odd looks sometimes. This is short, motiveless and plotless. 

## twist

by Shropshire

[]()

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even shoes. 

Feedback:endlesscamel@aol.com 

Warnings: Non-con, violence 

"Mr.Kent..." 

The sharp twist of pain his wrist became just then, prevented the persuasive speech from leaving his mouth. The speech that would have completely dissuaded Jonathon Kent,Clark's _dad_ ,from shoving his tongue down Lex's throat. He possibly laughed at this point, or as close as he could get to laughing, because really this was about the most absurd situation he had ever been faced with, in a lifetime of abnormality. One of the scariest too. 

Jonathon twisted his wrists again, squeezed tighter. The elder Kent was very like his son in being deceptively strong. Deceptive in that they both looked strong- six foot plus, farm-built muscles- but were in fact even stronger than that. Lex worked out, he fenced, he ate healthy like his dad and tv always told him to, but Jonathon was crushing his wrists against the wall with one hand and not breaking a sweat. Not over that, anyway. 

Of course, one of his wrists was broken. And the blood loss from his leg was probably not helping. A hand brushed Lex's face, gently, almost sweetly. That was funny too. 

"You're so pretty when you're scared." 

Breathed softly, before Jonathon licked his mouth, stroking the tiny scar with his tongue, and dived back in. The world's most original man, Jonathon Kent. Next he'd be saying he liked a boy with spirit. He did have some spirit left, didn't he? Was _trying_ to twist away, kicking and struggling against the hard body pressing him into the wall. Not budging an inch. 

Bloody hell, he was in a bodice ripper, cast as the virginal young dewy-eyed girl whose virtue was ripped from her, mostly unwillingly, by the dashing but cadly Lord Whatsisface. And- Lex as a virgin? That was funniest of all and the fact that he wasn't doubled up with laughter by now could only be explained by the pain and the tongue and the hand tracing his ribs as if it owned them. 

Lex had come to the barn to talk, he thought. Not even about anything important for once, like how Lex had been disappointing again in some vague and undefined way. Eerie, and a little disturbing, how similar, in many ways, his relationship with his wannabe-substitute-dad was to his relationship with his real one. Except Jonathon was a good man and a straightforward man. Jonathon would never actually hurt him deliberately, like Lionel would and did. 

Well.   
Assumptions are made to be kicked over and stomped into the ground and jumped on. 

When Mr. Kent picked up the pitchfork, Lex assumed (stupid boy) that this was just going to be a pointedly working talk. Can't waste time on idle chit chat, Lex, some of us have chores to be done, cows to be fed. He was completely unprepared for the fork to be rammed into his leg at full speed, the farmer smiling as he did it. 

Unprepared, but quick to adapt. Meteors, was his first thought, but the cause was unimportant for now. He rolled away quickly, remembered that they were alone on the farm and there was no point wasting energy on shouting, reached out for anything he could use as a weapon. Jonathon was still smiling. He put the pitchfork down- out of reach, unfortunately- apparently that was just to incapacitate him. It was pretty much working. 

Lex fought, ignoring the pain as much as he could, but this was really not something he was good at. Odd, considering the practice he'd had. He'd managed somehow to trip Kent, pin him under some lumpy metal thing and make it to the door. Nearly. Then something hit him hard in the back and then he was fighting off a very pissed off Jonathon Kent. 

He thinks that's when his wrist got broken -it's all a little blurry. At some point, he was shoved against the wall, his leg shaking and giving way, his wrists pinned incredibly painfully above his head and Jonathon was looking at him. Smiled a very horrible smile. Mumbled something about his eyes (really, really blue eyes). Licked his face slowly. 

"Mr. Kent..." 

Well, that was never, really going to work, was it? 

"Mr. Kent, I think you've confused me with someone else. Someone who it's normal for you to beat up and sexually assault in your barn." 

Uh-huh. 

"I'm actually Lex. Lex _Luthor_ , remember, who you can't stand the sight of, but sometimes can, but would never in a million years even think about thinking about snogging." 

That hand under his shirt is really going places he wouldn't want any even pretend-relative's hand remotely close to. This kissing is going on, somewhat. Breathe through your nose, Lex, that's what it's for. Is he actually fighting, still? He thinks so, he's certainly trying to, but he's too dizzy to be sure. He can't feel his leg, but he's hyper aware of the rest of his body, shrinking away from the insistently groping hand, the slobbery mouth. Was that a noise? 

"Dad...?" 

Jonathon turned slightly to see his son at the door. He seemed remarkably unfazed. "Give us a minute, Clark would you?" 

"Clark.." 

Lex thinks he managed that. His vocabulary reduced to gasping people's names. Still, it wouldn't make a difference at cocktail parties. Lex wants to giggle again (except not giggle because Luthors absolutely don't do that) so it's almost lucky that Jonathon's back to kissing him, oh but now he's all the way across the barn. Clever. Clark is yelling something. Jonathon's yelling something. Lex really has to sit down because his leg won't hold him up any longer. That sure is a lot of blood. Clark.   
Clark doesn't seem to need any help. Just as well, Lex couldn't fight off a wet kitten right about now. Is that what he means? Poor Clark, this must be embarrassing for him. Lex has seen worse with his own dad, but it never fails to make him squirm. 

"Lex? Lex, can you hear me?" 

"...can hear you Clark. 'm okay." 

Apart from the spots. Pretty spots.  
Reality, Lex. 

"...hospital..." 

" No, Clark. It'll be alright." 

Hated hospitals. Couldn't remember why. 

"But..." 

"How are you going to explain this to them?" 

Clark's dad is over in the corner. Unconscious but probably not too badly hurt otherwise. Clark wouldn't have. Lex certainly didn't, for all the kicking and punching that failed to help. 

"Stop the bleeding and it'll be fine in a couple days." 

Clark is confused and angry and upset. Clark doesn't want his dad to go to jail. He's probably thinking meteors, same as Lex. The whisky on Jonathon's breath, that wouldn't have been enough. Not for this. 

Lex is flying. Again. It's more painful this time, though Clark tries not to jolt him. He's set down on the couch while Clark goes back to fetch his dad, to explain to Martha, to try to sort it out. 

"Mum, guess what, Dad beat up my best friend and then french-kissed him in the barn. Got any band-aids?" 

Lex imagined Martha tutting Jonathon's naughty behaviour. No supper for you. That was definitely a giggle. He'd better go to sleep now. Two dads down- none to go. 


End file.
